Not Far From Aviemore

by Michael Reuel

V

  Landscape of memory

  In setting out on his expedition it proved entirely unexpected to Adam that, in order to move forwards, he would also be compelled to go backwards… and quite a long way back.

  The Highlands were a childhood home from home. His mother was half-Scottish and, though he never met his grandmother, his grandfather had moved back from England to the west coast of Scotland once his wife had passed away. Because of this, during his junior years, Adam had spent two summers and also one Christmas at his grandfather’s home when his parents decided to make the journey north.

  The memory was distant as his grandfather had died when he was six years old, but the character and magic of the lochs and mountains were so unlike the East Midlands that memories of the Highland landscape were never forgotten, even though as time passed they began to feel they belonged more to dream than memory. As he grew older he began to romanticise of the region as a place of peace and solitude that in the distant future he might himself retire to, even though, if he was honest with himself, he saw his life’s experience as sundered from that time and never truly expected to reconnect with that yearning for Celtic Britain.

  His granddad’s abode had been closer to the loftier peak of Ben Nevis than that of the Cairngorms, with views over the Western Isles and Britain’s highest peak on its shoulder. So he was not due to go there, but he knew the trip would still feel like returning to a landscape of memory and imagination before childhood dreams had been tainted by abuse and trauma. Unearthing family ties was a possibility he had never confronted and he found he was unable to predict what his emotions would be upon seeing that country and walking its paths; would reminiscence lead to a sense of belonging, or would he unearth only sadness if family roots and cherished memories were found to be slain by the hands of time and cruel circumstance?

  The flight was booked during a quiet last day in the lab; Harris was away at an executive’s meeting and any outstanding chores were not nearly as earth-shattering in potential as Becky tended to make out. Adam knew his colleagues well enough to know when their anxieties were out of the ordinary; Becky hated having days off and was difficult to pry away from the laboratory even for free drinks from the directors on Christmas Eve. On assessing the day’s chores, it turned out the only real cause for stress was the flight ahead. Any outstanding items were easily dealt with, allowing him to turn his mind to travel and accommodation. Via Heathrow airport, he had booked himself a flight to Aberdeen, before organising a rental car online and also a hotel room at a town by the name of Newtonmore. Aiming not to settle in one place for more than a couple of nights, hotels and bed & breakfasts in further towns had been noted and by nightfall he was packed and ready to leave London in the morning, equipped with rambling clothes and equipment suitable for remote heights.

  The next day would see the commencement of his expedition but, despite the potential peril ahead, his thoughts were more at peace than he could recall in a long time. Hoping this to be a good omen, he kept the interior of his flat silent all evening, leaving television, radio and even his computer turned off, knowing if he could get used to their absence in London then he would not miss them in whatever remote location he would soon find himself.

  This state of calm would proceed throughout the night for he had no intention of sleeping; the drawbridge was down and no demons were to disrupt his thoughts on the eve of his expedition, unless they had the courage to step out of their comfort zone and materialise into a level playing field not corrupted by paralytic spells. No need to admit he had no idea what his response would be to such an eventuality; the aim was to change the rules of the game before they ever found out and all cards would be played very close to the chest.

  Besides, Adam was counting on his instincts to respond well to confrontation. He’d experience of pride – the one deadly sin that cannot be defeated – overcoming fear. Had spent sleepless nights wondering how he would handle someone twice his size at school, when gang mentality had targeted him, but once an adversary was in his sights he had always found a means of overcoming his nerves. Years of being subject to attack when his limbs were out of use meant the freedom of being able to swing his arms was liberating, giving him a fearlessness he was not necessarily schooled in deserving and he had surprised aggressors with the fury of his fists on more than one occasion.

  Fresh conflict might have been closing in but, on that final night before returning to the land his grandfather had loved, was still a matter for the days ahead and it was almost as if the London streets themselves joined him in the call for a temporary ceasefire, even if his inner calm ran so deep that he only imagined it to be so.

  The airport process was surprisingly smooth, but Adam could hardly care less, hating flying as he did, providing the tin can set down securely in Aberdeen airport rather than in flames somewhere along the way. As it transpired, any demons that might have noticed his call to battle failed to have any impact upon the airways and the flight, lasting less than an hour, set down on time without even the drama of misplaced luggage.

  Pleased to have his two feet back on solid ground, Adam had soon left the airport by taxi and was dropped off outside of a car rental company in the city where he was prepared to sign his life away. Renting a car, experience had taught him, was also something to feel anxious about, having come across businesses that suddenly asked for massive deposits and undertook vague licence checks it was not always clear how to satisfy, but once again the process was refreshingly straightforward, the attendants proving friendly and even taking the time to highlight the route to his hotel on a map of Scotland he was handed. Surprised by the ease with which he was very soon underway, Adam became suspicious that his plans might be usurped by fate deciding to give him what he had not accounted for: a relaxing holiday. This wariness grew as the distant mountains edged ever closer, thus far seeming far too delightful to sustain any desire for reckoning.

  Realising he was probably thinking too hard on the matter, for he had not yet been an hour in Scotland, Adam succeeded in convincing himself that enjoyment would do him no harm while it was available and became determined not to protest against further pleasures for the rest of the day if that was what fate had in store.

  The vehicle secured, he was fortunate enough not to encounter any congestion or lunch-hour traffic on his route from the city and so without hassle he was soon following signs to the Cairngorms themselves, the heights of the remotest inland destination in the British Isles already looming in the distance. Evergreen ferns swept by either side as he began the climb away from the coastline and towards the very land where he had decided his expedition would begin; the land where he would seek to disrupt the evil forces that without consent had taken over his life. He made no prayer to any God, but hoped that if there was one He would find no reason to make such a task impossible; if life was indeed a game he asked only to be able to compete.

  As yet no clouds foretold of gloom to come, but for many miles the views he craved of the wider landscape were obscured, either by forestry or rising land, and he wondered if he would have to wait until climbing one of the peaks themselves before satisfying himself with a panoramic view of Scotland – still not quite trusting his memory with the truth. But lands do not hide their beauty indefinitely from anyone who makes the effort to go looking. Coming suddenly upon a break in the forestry that hugged the uphill roads taking him out of Aberdeenshire, it transpired he had reached a height that caught him at unawares and a view that welcomed him at last to something he might know as belonging to that memory.

  Failing to disappoint, he discovered that his recollections were not so unreliable as he had supposed; indeed, seeming tame to the splendour of the country he then beheld. The grandiosity of the Highlands was first confirmed then elevated and, opportunistically, he even gave in to the temptation of a lay-by so as to take his eyes from the road, leave the vehicle and take in all there was to see without distraction.

  So the gardens of adolescence were
located once again and they were not overgrown or unkempt, but had weathered the challenges of the years with greater tenacity than those of us with free will ever seem to achieve. Beneath him an unblemished nirvana of hills, streams and valleys, while in the distance multiple Highland peaks sat majestic and stroked by mists casually gliding over and caressing. Mountain ranges in retirement from bygone eras of super volcanoes and caring not that their most active days were firmly in the past.

  Landscapes are not sensitive to the perils of time, to which mountains are especially unapologetic. The view before him expressed no concern at the years in which Adam had failed to visit and a part of him felt he had never really been away. Yet there was something missing, for the eastern region was the only part of the Highlands not carved up by lochs, their unfathomable depths an absence he now realised left his senses thirsty.

  As it turned out soon after, there had been no real need to pull his vehicle over and wash his senses in the view he craved, as the expanse before him would be visible for many miles. On a winding road through the rolling hills of Aberdeenshire and into the Cairngorm National Park itself, his sight remained tantalised with views of the land he was set to explore.

  Evening was closing in by the time he reached Newtonmore and his pre-booked accommodation. Avoiding lavish hotel chains, he preferred a small inn with homely comforts for sleeping and a pub restaurant as well as a bar. Having not eaten all day, Adam was starving by the time he checked in but, not one to eat alone in public places – just as he wasn’t one to pre-plan mealtimes – he was pleased to find a chip shop in close proximity and so was able to relax from his journey while eating in the solitary surroundings of his own room.

  Rested and nourished for the many days of investigation then directly ahead, he spared himself a thought for London, where crowds still hurried in total contrast to the remote surroundings where he had arrived. In doing so he had a vision of the laboratory and he thought he could picture exactly what was happening there 500 miles away. Although Friday and passed six-thirty, he sensed one person’s career ambitions were not shy of those boundaries and were still being pursued. Curious to see if he was right, he dialled the office number.

  ‘Hello?’

  He was right, for he would recognise that voice anywhere.

  ‘What are you doing still working at this hour?’ Adam responded, adopting a voice of authority only when it was not professional to do so.

  ‘Adam!’ He detected Becky’s surprise and also that the tone of her voice brightened upon hearing his; somewhat more so than usual, he thought later, for this had in fact been a long-running joke between them and Adam would often call her from home to tell her she had five minutes to leave the lab or he would recommend the board sack her for not having a life. This time he gave her no such ultimatum, sensing that the lab might be hers from now on and she could commit herself to it as vigorously as she saw fit.

  ‘You’ll never guess where I am,’ he asked, instead.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Scotland.’

  ‘Scotland!’ Becky said, with a half laugh, for the mention brought both of them back to their very first conversation about something other than work. Not finding it easy to strike up a conversation with her, Adam recalled that using the two words ‘Loch Lomond’ had been successful in distracting her, for Becky had a postcard of Scotland’s second famous loch that was left facing her as she worked – perhaps the only clue that her heart yearned for more than scientific ambition. After pressing her for more information she had told him ‘I have promised myself never to leave the country until I visit there; I was told the loch’s surface lets light glide over like a silk mattress as a person runs their fingers over it.’ The two of them had then bonded over memories of Scotland from his youth and her own desire to go there, for both had ancestry north of Hadrian’s Wall and Adam had even seen Loch Lomond once, though only from a distance.

  ‘Where are you? Edinburgh?’

  ‘Three hours’ drive from Aberdeen.’

  ‘Aberdeen! But that’s miles… You didn’t fly did you?’

  ‘I said I was scared of flying, I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.’

  ‘Well I hope it was worth it,’ Becky said, sounding impressed and he could tell her curiosity was genuine.

  ‘Becky, you should see this place,’ he continued, for he knew that she would love the valley view from his window and found he could not help but share it with her.

  ‘I’m looking out over a Cairngorm sunset. What does it say on that poem of yours? “The seas and lochs are something to behold / Scotland is to be sure a land of gold.” Do you think it’s worth it?’ he asked her, believing that his words had an effect by the silence that ensued.

  ‘You know… don’t be too far from the phone while you’re away,’ Becky replied at last. ‘There might be some kind of disaster in the offices here.’

  Adam’s reveries were interrupted by just a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

  ‘You OK?’

  ‘Yeah!’ Becky replied, ‘just might like to talk about something other than work 24/7’

  ‘Well it’s like I say, take it easy.’

  They said goodbye then and, though it was cheering to hear Becky’s voice, Adam realised he had fallen into the trap of wondering if something had happened at Kismet Lore. It really wasn’t like Becky to suggest she couldn’t handle whatever pressure she was under. Then again it was Friday, most of the employees finished at midday and very little of importance was likely to have happened. He allowed himself to dwell on it for a little while, but accepted he was doing exactly the opposite to what he had travelled to Scotland for and set about forgetting all matters London, focusing instead upon the cold secrets he wanted to unlock from the ancient landscape at his feet. On the morrow he would begin his expedition for real and so spent the evening checking his gear and supplies, as well as practising the erection of the one-man tent he was aware might just save his life if he became lost or caught in harsh conditions.

  Though ambitious, his plan was to start off simple. Partly he wanted to get used to walking Highland landscapes and so would spend his first full day in the region visiting some obscure locations that had links to local folklore and legend, but by the third night he aimed to be in the remote wastes of Ben Macdui itself where strange and terrible events had been recorded.

  In the dark and colder months of the year the phenomenon had been at its most active. Those winter months were just around the corner; indeed, an early winter had been predicted and Adam knew that once winter arrived in the Highlands there would be no respite for many months.